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lucky me

This morning, I woke up, puttered around, eventually got ready to walk up to cap hill, see if I could get lucky. Now I'm planning to walk, but I want to get my shades out of the car, so I'm looking for my car key.

Can't find it anywhere in the apartment. It's not still in the pants I wore yesterday, not on the shelf where I usually put it, not even on the futon under a pillow.

Eventually, I give up, cause I want to get out of the apartment before I go completely stir crazy, so I grab the spare car key out of the storage box, and head down to the car.

Guess what's sitting on the dash when I get down there...

Yup, the key. Thank goodness my car is at the back of the parking garage, so no one walked past my car to notice it was unlocked, with the key on the dash.

Then again, the key looks so freaky, if they didn't know what it was, they could have seen it and thought it was an mini-dildo.


That's the lucky part of the day. The rest of the story is just wierdness.

While I sat on the arch-steps across from westlake center, I watched a rather odd acura. It didn't look freaky, it just acted freaky. It would turn off fourth onto pine, stop in the middle of the crosswalk, one or two girls would get in the car, and he'd drive off. A few minutes later, he'd be back, pick up another one or two, and leave again. I thought for sure he'd be busted when a cop car got stuck behind him trying to turn off fourth, while someone else got in, but he just went around him and kept going.

Then some middle aged black man, in a black silk dress and a black leather bomber jacket, walks past, doing some sort of crazy-man rant.

The bird pooping on me next wasn't so much wierd as disgusting/annoying. It didn't really hit me directly, just some splatter from the initial impact on the back of my shirt. Either way, seemed like time to move on.

Up on capitol hill, trying to drink a blueberry b monster at auriface, I watch some funky police action, with one group stopping to talk with a bi-racial older couple, in front of the mini-mart. 10 minutes into their conversation, another cop car pulls up on the other side of the street, the two cops in that car get out, and start talking to some older armenian lookin dude, who seems quite frustrated about something that happened down the side street where I can't see what he's pointing at. Eventually the cops give him a card, and leave. Meanwhile, the other set of cops and the couple are still chatting, looking really informal. At one point, they both start taking off their backpacks, like the cops want to search'm or somethin, but then the cops leave. After they leave, the couple moves into the shade, and alternate between making out and play-slapping each other, eventually wandering off.

Broadway was depressingly tame compared to that. Weren't even any street kids in front of dicks I could hope to score off of

2003-09-01